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This morning while on my way to work CJ decided to be 4 and test my limits. So as per my motherly duty I spoke to him in a tone that let him know that if he continued I would snatch him the hell up. He sensed my anger and apologized and sat down. I didn’t curse, nor did I raise my voice so imagine my surprise when the lady next to me chimed in that he seemed like a nice boy and I didn’t have to yell at him. *please hold*……
How do I say this without sounding like a self righteous bitch? Mind your GOD damn business, Yes that’s it. I politely told her that my sons well being was none of her concern and that maybe she should focus on her own children. Guess what she didn’t have any kids! I just left it at that.
I’ll explain this one time, My son is just that MY SON! The only people that have any right to speak on how I speak to him share a last name, and even then tread lightly. But in this particular case when a child is being disciplined, not beaten, cursed or any other form of excess discipline keep you mouth shut. You are undermining my authority because you think you have a right too and you don’t. This PC village to raise a child mentality has gone WAY to far! This might sound crazy but the village that aid in raising my child does not include any random person off the street. My Village is contained and the villagers are hand chosen by ME, so if you think you have the right to speak to me about my child then please prepare for the tongue lashing that will follow.
All copyrights for this image are acknowledged. Run a Google search for Calvin and Hobbes, or read about Bill Watterson
I can’t believe it’s 2011 already! Last year was full of happy times, big changes and parental doubts but we made it through. CJ is a great little boy, smart and funny so I can’t complain. Well I could complain but what sense would that make, it just makes him feel bad and me feel worse. Anyway I thought I would share the first funny story of the New Year with you…
I’ve been on vacation the last two glorious weeks and so I’ve had a lot of time to pay attention to CJ’s behavior and in short this kid is becoming quite the brat! YES I said it, he’s got that only child syndrome and I’m not having it! I am not like some of these other parents wondering why, I know why. *looks at his dad* HAHA No seriously we’ve let him slip by because sometimes I just don’t want to hear it.
Don’t get me wrong he’s a sweet little boy, he does what he’s suppose to in school and he knows not to do all that falling out in the street, crying type mess because I will leave him right there but in the house he seems to think that he is the King *looks at bills, mortgage,* Yeah we’ll he’s not. So on December 31st I had a little sit down with Mr. CJ! I told him that this behavior was unacceptable and how things were going to change. In this conversation I may have said “I’m tired of this nonsense” along with some other things. I noticed a changed in CJ immediately (except when he gets tired). This morning after he brushed his teeth I guess he had a momentary lapse of foolishness because when I told him he couldn’t have any cookies he started whining… SIDE NOTE: I HATE KIDS THAT WHINE! IT MAKES MY SKIN CRAWL AND I WANT TO PUNCH BABIES! *fixes hair, straightens skirt* but before I yelled at him I asked him what did we JUST talk about, here is what he said:
“Mommy you said you are tired of this nonsense and I’m going to end up with a raw behind” then he went to the living room turned the timer upside down and sat in his room until the sand ran out.
I think he’s going to be alright. HAHAH
Every day after dinner CJ and I perform our ritual “Shower dance”. We started doing this dance when he was 2 and deathly afraid of the shower. Sure some mom’s still take the baby in the shower with them but I’m not that mom. Anyway we started this dance that is kind of like the butt, electric slide and pop locking all in one.
When he was younger I’d wash him up and then take him right out but these days he’s too big for that (so he says). So normally I wash him up and then leave so he can play. I always tell him to leave all Mommy’s products alone and NEVER touch daddy’s razor. But last Sunday I think he forgot and I didn’t recognize it until Monday morning when I put lotion on his face and saw this huge patch in his baby boy mustache. I asked him what happen he said nothing. I kept pushing and he still wouldn’t tell me.
FINALLY this morning while brushing his teeth he took the razor and said Mommy this is how you shave and started to put it to his face. I freaked, CJ this could cut you to which he replied it didn’t cut me before that’s how I shaved my face last time. O_o
Needless to say we’ve now locked up all the razors, nair, neet any hair removal products because the next time he might go at his head. HAHA.
*Still LMAO*
This morning on my way to work after a frustrating start (I really need to live someplace warm from Dec-March) I saw a mother on the train with her 5yo. The 5 year old was obviously tired and acting well like a tired kid, the mom looked lost in her own mind but still concentrated on her child. One stop after they got on the train the little boy opened his coat and laid on the subway floor, now needless to say in the middle of rush hour this draws attention. I looked at the boy, I looked at the mom (and side eyed all the men sitting there) and went back to singing along to my Beres Hammond mix. I mean who am I to judge right?
Well I was the only one NOT judging, out the side of my eye I saw a group of moms sitting, and going on and on about this woman and her child. Not one thought to offer her a seat just cackling away about how awful a mom she must be simply because her child was sitting on the floor. Finally someone near them got off the train, the lady sat and put her son on her lap. As she read to her son these women continued to talk about her, the child appearance (which was fine) as if she wasn’t sitting RIGHT next to them I was disgusted but she kept her focus on her child.
Being a mother is NOT an easy gig, its not all fresh baked cookies and blue birds fluttering about as you vacuum ala the fairy tale, and these gossipy cows know that. Being a mom means sacrifice, it means even less time in the day to do what you need to forget what you want to do. And no women has the right to judge you by what they’ve done in their homes. (And don’t get me started on women w/o kids.) I watch mothers everyday in my commuting because look I don’t have all the answers but I do know that all moms are not the same and therefore not cut from the same cloth… And damn it that’s okay.
Monday while in the car with CJ we decided to give the Alphabet CD a break and listen to WBLS. Every song played was accompanied by CJ singing as though he collected a check on all these songs. He bounced and sang along to Vaughn Mason &Crew’s Bounce, Rock, Skate,Roll, which gave me a good laugh because I taught him this song when he was about 2 1/2. Clearly it stuck.
When a commercial came on Dad decides to turn to Hot 97 o_O luckily for him Ne-Yo was playing but that seemed to upset CJ because he starts yelling “I don’t want to hear this song it’s bad”. In trying to keep my sanity I ask him what he song did he want to hear, he said the “Ru Pa Pa Pum Pum” song. Really CJ? You want to hear Christmas music.. So I scanned the radio and fortunately the song wasn’t on (SN: I hate Christmas music). His little face was so sad.
Flash to this evening, I was doing my crunches and playing Rihanna (the only thing her music is suitable for) and “Man Down” comes on and this kid LOSES his mind! Mommy This is the song, you had it all along… Ru Pa Pum Pum Mommy! And then he starts singing…”Rum Pa Pum Pum Man Down”
He made me play this song several times and again if I’m not working out I need not hear Rih Rih.
OH BOY! What am I going to do with this boy!
In June we lost a very dear member of our family, a father, grandfather and companion to my mother and friend. Bob was the only grandfather CJ really knew on my side of the family (*side eye @ my Father*) and when he died it hurt more than anyone can imagine.
I’ve had people close to me pass since CJ was born but not where I had to explain to him where they were or why he would never get to see them again. Bob’s death was a first. It took me an entire day to wrap my mind around his death, and to explain to CJ. When I finally told him, from his response I knew he didn’t understand and I breathed a sigh of relief.. Later in the week, right before the funeral CJ told me “Mommy don’t be sad, Bob is in heaven with Jesus now”. Those are mighty powerful words for a not yet four year old. I’m sure we’ve spoken about the heaven and Jesus before but I don’t remember when it was or why. I just know that at that very moment I wanted to smile, and be strong for him. The funeral was painful, I cried when I saw Bob in the coffin but I held onto CJs words. Weird huh? Maybe not.
This morning while venting to myself about something or another I remembered that today is Bob’s Birthday. I got a little teary eyed and right when I wanted to really cry, I heard a voice tell me not to worry, things would be okay. The voice very familiar reminded me of this conversation with my little toddler. What did I do before that little man!
So today instead of mourning Bob I celebrate his life, a wonderful life full of Love. I know that’s what he’d want.
This was soooo true (sometimes I still feel like this shhhhhh). *snaps* CJ bring me a fruit cup hahaha
Thank You dear Village Voice.
“Except in select ‘hoods like Park Slope and perhaps the Upper West Side, children are viewed as mysterious beings, rarely sighted and only occasionally understood, like pixies or magical small butlers. Until they scream, in which case, they are banished from the palace.”
Read the rest of the article here: 50 Reasons to be Pretty Dan Euphoric You live in New York City
In the last four years we’ve had many “Firsts” involving C.J. He is my first child, the first time he held his head up, the first word (which was Dadda), his first shots (heartbreaking), his first step (7months). In the last three weeks we’ve had so many my poor tear ducks have gone on strike and refuse to produce tears!
First haircut, I won’t go into the details but it was quite traumatizing…..For me! C.J was a champ and besides getting a little tired and dozing off, he was fine. I on the other hand was banished to the bathroom to collect myself. Hahah. Plenty of folks on twitter (*side eye* WIM and 12kyle), BBM ( Eb) were getting a good laugh at my expense. But we survived and look how great he looks!
w/My sister Vio
I think Smarty broke down my heartache best, when we decided to cut CJs hair it cut away some of our bonding time. I do kind of miss washing his hair, and braiding it but I don’t miss the battle royal that came along with it, so long live CEASAR and his awesome haircut.
Another big first is C.J started Preschool two weeks ago. It wasn’t as emotional as the haircut (well leaving his day care provider was but that’s another story) because we had time to prepare. And to be honest CJ made me promise not to cry because he was just going to “big boy” school, not leaving me. So I had to make sure I did not cry, because I didn’t want him to get nervous and to one day have to tell his therapist it was that day that made him a wreck. LOL! Here are a few first day of school pics…
First ride to Pre-school!
These teachers don't know what they are in for...SMILES
I know there will be so many more firsts in CJ’s life so I’m preparing myself now by stocking up on tissue. Hahah
Yesterday I was exhausted after hosting a party for my Granny the night before. All I wanted to do was stay in bed and not think about cooking, cleaning or eating for that matter. But C.J had other plans, he was up at 7:30 (late for him) and wanted to make sausage and pancakes..DAMN DAMN DAMN! I got up reluctantly as did the Mr. but no pancakes were made (PBJ, Toast and Tea) and then we all laid back down to sleep.
Three hours (YES THREE) we were all up again, still not rested but able to stand without crying (ME and my damn 5inch heels) and C.J wanted to play on the Wii, so I sent him and daddy in the living room declaring loudly, “Mommy worked hard yesterday and she’s tired” to which this little knuckle head replies “No Mommy, you are not tired, daddy’s get tired and Mommy’s get cranky”.
*hmm I see I’m going to have to de-program CJ at an early age*
I spend a lot of time talking about CJ over here as I should, but I think my readers also want to hear about me. So I’m going to start with this post. A sad post, a mother’s worry, a mother’s insecurity. Some of you might agree, some might not (or just haven’t gotten to this point yet) but I’m here and I’m no longer afraid to say it.
SOME DAYS I JUST DON’T WANT TO BE A MOM!
Go ahead clutch your pearls, roll your eyes, close the window I really don’t care.I love my son with every bit of who I am but there are days I wish I could run away and just not be a mom anymore. Why you ask? Because Motherhood is the hardest job I’ve ever had. I never thought it would be fun and games all the time, but JEEZ can I get a breather. I’m a realist, I watched my mom battled it out with three strong-willed girls (myself included). And now I am battling it out with a strong-willed little male version of myself and it’s EXHAUSTING. Sometimes to the point of tears (OFTEN). I feel inadequate, something I’ve never felt before. I feel that I am letting CJ down often because my patience is non-existent and I just expect him to be a superstar all the time. YET another failure on my part, he’s 4! Not 40, he’s suppose to make mistakes, he’s suppose to make me nuts, right? Well some days I have a really hard time wrapping my head around it and before I know it , he’s crying, I’m crying and we’re both a mess.
I was chatting with a friend the other day, she was stressed, I’m always stressed when she asked me “why are you stressed, you have it all, great career, an adoring hubby, and a smart energetic child” My response was don’t let all that fool you it comes at a cost… and right now it’s my sanity. No maybe sanity isn’t the right word, it’s about my fears. Fears that my son won’t live up to the image I’ve created in my mind of him. So when I ask him to show me the number 4 and he shows me 9 I get angry and frustrated. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this when I was pregnant… #FAIL.
Not to mention this last year has been so hard and I guess I haven’t let it all go… I need to before my nutso behavior makes my happy child sad and bitter. I need to work on being patient, and remember what I often have to remind his dad, he’s four he’s not going to be perfect all the time.
*heavy sigh* This post was brought to you by an hour-long fight about numbers.
